


But When I'm Bad, I'm Better

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick likes wearing skirts. Joe likes Patrick wearing skirts, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But When I'm Bad, I'm Better

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic unfinished in my documents for a while and, now that I'm on a short social media hiatus, I decided to work on it. This is the end product. I hope you guys like it.

Patrick likes wearing skirts. It’s not a sexual-identity crisis (Patrick is gay, there’s no crisis to have), and it’s not a deep-rooted trauma thing that his dad suggested when he found Patrick trying on a cute, floral-print skirt that he’d found at Goodwill. Skirts are comfortable and pretty and they make Patrick feel good. He wishes that people would just _understand_ that.

He decided a long time ago that he was not going to tell the guys about this ever. His band is supportive but they are also huge dicks sometimes, and Patrick does not trust them to not make fun of him for wearing a skirt on the bus. He doesn’t like having to hide it from them, but there’s not much else he can do. 

So, when Joe barges into the bathroom and catches Patrick admiring himself in a black, faux-leather skirt that his sister sent him (Megan supports Patrick’s fascination wholeheartedly, for which he is thankful), Patrick panics. He expects Joe to stay and laugh at him, to tell him that he’s fucking weird, but Joe goes wide-eyed, immediately turns around, and slams the bathroom door behind him like he can’t get out fast enough. 

_Great_ , Patrick thinks, _now he’s probably going to tell Pete and Andy and have a good laugh about it._

When Patrick leaves the bathroom, Joe is in his bed with his laptop perched on a pile of pillows. He shoots Patrick a smile before turning his attention back to the screen. They watch the news and part of a Futurama marathon before going to sleep. They don’t talk about it. 

\--

It takes a week and five more shows before Joe finally asks; Patrick’s been keeping count. 

“So, is it like, a thing?” Joe asks tentatively. They’re sitting in the same bed in a hotel room in Las Vegas, Nevada. They have a show the next night and everyone in the band and the crew is thankful for a much needed night of rest. Patrick pokes at the takeout Marcus brought to them with his chopsticks and sighs. 

“Define ‘a thing,’” Patrick says. 

“Like, is it a...y’know, sex thing?” 

“No, Joe,” Patrick mumbles before shoveling a large cube of tofu into his mouth. 

“Then what is it?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Try me,” Joe persists. Patrick both admires and resents Joe’s tenacity. 

He sighs and fiddles with a piece of baby corn in the styrofoam container. “I just...like skirts? I always have. I used to dress up in my sister’s clothes when I was little and I liked it. I guess I just never grew out of it.” 

“Is it like, an identity crisis or--?” Joe asks. 

Patrick makes an exasperated noise in the back of his throat and shakes his head. “No! Why does everyone keep asking me that? I like skirts! There’s nothing wrong with liking skirts!” He violently stabs the chopsticks into a piece of broccoli and shoves it into his mouth. They stop talking about it and watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia instead. 

\--

“You know I’m not judging you, right?” Joe asks when he sees Patrick shove the black skirt into the depths of his suitcase. 

“ _Do_ I know that?” Patrick mutters. His suitcase is filled to the brim and zipping it is going to be a challenge. He looks to Joe who nods and perches himself on the suitcase so Patrick can close it. 

 

“You look good in it,” Joe comments. Patrick feels a blush spread across his face and rolls his eyes .

“Joe, don’t.” 

“I’m serious,” Joe asserts. He scoots off of the suitcase and they both continue to gather up their things before Marcus retrieves them and escorts them down to the lobby. 

\--

“Is it just skirts or do you like other kinds of clothes?” They’re sitting on the bus after the Vegas show. Pete, Andy, and Marcus have all retired to their respective bunks for the night. Patrick is a night owl and Joe's not really tired, so they stay in the front of the bus on their computers. 

Patrick sighs loudly and lowers the laptop screen. “Do we really have to talk about this?” 

Joe shrugs, “No, I’m just curious.” 

They return to their tasks in silence. Patrick downloads and listens to Folie a Deux, just to kill time. He thinks fleetingly that the record is one of their best, despite the band hurtling towards their hiatus at the time. When _What a Catch, Donnie_ plays, a ghost of a smile plays on Patrick’s lips. 

Eventually, Patrick pulls his headphones off, closes his laptop, and rubs his eyes. Joe glances up at him and gives him a tired smile--a wordless goodnight when Patrick gathers up his things and starts for the bunks. Marcus’ snores ring loudly throughout the bus. 

Patrick hesitates and turns back to Joe. “It’s not just skirts. I like other stuff too. But not blouses. That shit gets confusing.” Patrick says before nodding at his bandmate and disappearing into the back. 

\--

Joe doesn’t bring it up again and hasn’t told anyone else, Patrick guesses, since none of the other guys have asked questions. He’s enjoying the warmth and peacefulness of the shower when the bathroom door opens. Patrick pokes his head around the curtain and raises an eyebrow when he sees Joe beaming at him with a Macy’s shopping bag in his hand. 

“I got you something and I want you to try it on. I need to make sure it fits.” Joe says before setting the bag down on the counter and quickly exiting the bathroom. Patrick doesn’t think much about it; it’s been weeks since they’d talked about the skirt thing and Patrick has since pushed it to the back of his mind. And Joe’s been known to be very generous towards his bandmates and buy them things, so it’s not really a big deal. 

As he towels off, he peers into the Macy’s bag and blinks. He wraps his towel around his waist and digs into the bag before pulling out a sleeveless, black cocktail dress with leather accents at the waist. Patrick’s face burns and he drapes the dress carefully on the counter. The dress is beautiful and Patrick really likes it, but the fact that Joe bought it for him is...well, weird. 

_He’s just being nice and supporting you!_ , Patrick’s brain yells at him. But there’s a small part of him that feels like Joe may be mocking him. But, Joe’s not like that. Joe may be an asshole sometimes, but he seemed pretty sincere when he asked Patrick to try it on. 

Patrick finally decides that, fuck it, the dress is really fucking cute and if Joe’s making fun of him, then Patrick will make him eat his words. 

The dress fits him perfectly and Patrick admires himself in the mirror. The top is fitted and the skirt is short and flouncy, showing a lot of leg. If there’s one thing Patrick’s proud of, it’s his legs. 

He pokes his head out of the bathroom and Joe is sitting cross-legged on the bed watching T.V. He immediately snaps his head towards the door, smiles, and nods, encouraging Patrick to show him the dress. Patrick nervously opens the door all the way and takes a few steps out, not daring to look Joe in the eyes.

“That looks really good on you, dude. I have awesome taste, I don’t care what any of you fuckers say,” Joe says. He’s smiling so sincerely that Patrick _knows_ he’s not being an asshole or making fun of him. 

“Thanks. And thanks for getting it for me,” Patrick mumbles. 

“No problem. I’m just glad you let me see you in it,” Joe says and shrugs, his gaze shifting down to Patrick’s legs. 

\--

It’s not a sex thing, really. It’s just a _thing_ \--a small detail of Patrick’s life that just exists, and Patrick’s never thought of it beyond that. But the way Joe looked at him when he was wearing that dress made Patrick consider it. And that is how the singer finds himself inside of a Spencer’s Gifts, staring blankly at the racks of cheesy, fantasy lingerie with a bright blush on his face. 

“Did you need help finding something?” A voice asks from behind him. 

Patrick jumps and whirls around, his eyes landing on a tiny employee with bright blue bangs and heavy eyeliner. She smiles warmly while Patrick flounders, searching for a response. 

“I’m, uh, just looking for a skirt,” Patrick says. 

“What kind of skirt?” The girl asks, tilting her head. 

“Oh, um, I mean I was just browsing but...I was looking for something in the vein of a, uh...school girl skirt?” Patrick averts his eyes to the ground in embarrassment but the employee doesn’t bat an eye. 

“I can help you find what you’re looking for, then,” she says with a reassuring nod. 

Patrick leaves the store with a dangerously short, red, plaid skirt, a pair of lacy, black boy shorts, and a basic black garter set with fishnets. He hightails it back to the venue and stores the purchases in his bunk before anybody has time to ask questions. 

\--

Hotel night comes faster than Patrick is prepared for. He stands in the bathroom, staring at the Spencer’s bag on the counter, his pulse pounding in his ears, while Joe waits on the other side of the door, completely unaware of Patrick’s plans.

The skirt fits perfectly, which Patrick is thankful for, and the lower half of his outfit looks surprisingly good on him. Patrick adjusts the straps on the garter belt and beams at his reflection. He reaches for the t-shirt that’s crumpled on the counter next to the bag and pulls it on. It’s one of Joe’s Megadeth t-shirts that Patrick stole from him this morning. The shirt is relatively clean and smells like Joe’s Old Spice body wash and deodorant. 

Patrick hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, knowing that this could go south very quickly if Joe were to panic. The singer takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, focusing on relaxing the tightness in his jaw before turning the knob slowly and peeking out into the room. 

Joe glances over at him and does a double-take when Patrick opens the door completely, revealing his outfit. 

“Holy shit,” Joe breathes, shifting on the bed to get a better look, “Patrick, you look...you look amazing.” 

Patrick looks down at his feet and smiles to himself, giving a little shrug. “Thank you,” he whispers, his face burning bright red. 

“Come here, I want to get a better look,” Joe says. 

Patrick shuffles over and looks up at the guitarist, his breath hitching when he notices Joe’s glazed expression, and his wide pupils. Patrick bites his lip and audibly gasps when Joe’s fingers skim across his thigh. Joe glances up at him and smiles, before turning his attention back to the garter. His hand wanders higher until he’s touching the bare skin between the top of the fishnets and the fabric of Patrick’s boyshorts. 

“Is this okay?” Joe asks, his voice no higher than a whisper. 

Patrick nods slowly, watching Joe’s hand skim across the t-shirt, and then up underneath it. His hands are cool against Patrick’s flushed skin, and Patrick moves in closer until he’s crowding into Joe’s space and leaning down to press their lips together. 

Joe’s hands run along Patrick’s skin as he kisses him, nipping and tugging gently at Patrick lower lip. He leans back on the bed, his hand curled loosely into the t-shirt as he tugs the singer down with him until Patrick lies flush against Joe’s body.

Patrick pulls away first, gasping for breath. 

“I didn’t know if you’d want this...if you’d want me,” Patrick pants. 

Joe kisses him slowly and Patrick falls into the rhythm of it easily. 

“Of course I want you,” Joe murmurs into his ear, “How could I not?” 

Patrick feels Joe’s half-hard cock pressing against his thigh and smirks at the guitarist who grins deviously. Patrick shifts until he’s up on his knees between Joe’s legs. He palms at Joe through his pants and watches as Joe lets his head fall back on the pillow with a soft whimper. 

Patrick pops the button on Joe’s pants and tugs them down until Joe’s kicking them off over the side of the bed. The outline of his dick is prominent through his gray boxer-briefs and Patrick touches experimentally, using his index finger and his thumb press lightly, up and down Joe’s length through the fabric. 

“God, Patrick,” Joe whines, arching up into the touch. 

Joe groans louder when Patrick mouths at him through the cotton, warm and gentle. Then Patrick tugs the garment down to Joe’s knees, taking Joe’s length into his hand and wrapping his fingers around him, spreading the pre-come around. 

“Does that feel good?” Patrick asks, peering up at Joe through his eyelashes. 

“God, _yes_ ,” Joe moans, letting his eyes slip shut. 

And then Patrick’s mouth is around him and Joe watches intently as Patrick’s lips stretch over his cock, taking his as far down as he can without choking. The guitarist’s hand immediately curl into his hair and he forces himself to keep looking as Patrick’s head bobs up and down with an obscene sucking sound. 

The warmth spreads from the base of Joe’s spine and into his abdomen, and Joe gasps out, “Patrick, I’m gonna come.” Patrick doesn’t relent and keeps bobbing his head until Joe’s groaning and Patrick can taste the bitter, stickiness against his tongue. 

Joe lies back against the bed feeling boneless while Patrick reaches for the tissues on the bedside table and spits into before tossing it into the small trashcan in the bathroom. 

“Holy shit,” Joe mumbles, his arm slung over his eyes. He peeks out and grins brightly at Patrick who smiles back bashfully. 

“So, was that okay?” The singer asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the skirt. 

“Okay? Patrick, that was fucking amazing. I mean, I knew you had a talented mouth but I didn’t realize _how_ talented…” 

Patrick giggles and gives a little shrug. “Thanks, I think?” 

Joe props himself up on his elbows and gestures for Patrick to move closer. 

“C’mon, I want to pull those panties off with my teeth now.”


End file.
